


Malkavians, are indeed, batshit

by Bearcina



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Gen, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Retelling, chapters may be revised over time, in progress, inspired by Cry's youtube play tbh, open for suggestion, this is bloodlines cannon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-18 12:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearcina/pseuds/Bearcina
Summary: Decided to go ahead and make this, it started as exercises for the local writing group here.-When tossed around into a hall of mirrors, what should happen when one breaks a few?





	1. The Lady By The Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Diablerie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3962215) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



_ “The Astral Light will light up the nights sky with the house of wares.” _

 

It was why I was with the lady by the sea, dark and intimidating in my first days, but broken Mercury had spilled all over the floor, such a beautiful red mess, yet was annoying to my eyes as I watched it spill uselessly from a man babbling to the useless personalities tuned into his frequency of his dying babblings. I would retrieve the explosive by myself, Mercurio should learn better, silly fools don't make these mistakes. Never go without a handy boom-stick to chase away the reaper.

 

_...This Astral Light belongs to me, and me only.  _ _ Greedy hands may grasp at it, but I will not let it be taken.  _

 

The kindred on her shores had blood thinner than water; quite the mystery for my personalities. Why were they thinner than the water they guarded? Ah, as it made no sense, we must find why it is so, but it takes priority over a silly dying man, a few extra nights away from the babbling man and the Jester would do me good. Days didn't hold meaning to me, only when the sun was ready to poke his burning head over the shores to chase away the demons it would slay. Their broken morale led me to diners and blood, but it unclouded my mind soon enough… 

The flower met her letter, and the shadow-seer spoke of my broken future…

We can see her truths dance in front of our eyes like broken mirrors. Broken mirrors, just like a house of them toppling over in moonlight to a curse we didn't ask for. What's this unlife worth for one who bears the shine of a broken mirror?

 

The voices led me to the direction of an Asylum; to meet the daughter of Janus. Such an Asylum, indeed. A pair of beautifully hectic sisters rule with clashing opinions, making a beautifully hectic melody to greet the demons and their childer every evening, blood for the hungry, music for the bored, and drinks for the drunkards.

The white mistress knew just what to say to blend the screaming of the voices into wonderful harmony… She saw the broken mirrors of my future, and knew just how to speak to please the ways they shone in the useless moonlight over our shared harmony in this demented lifetime. But the dark daughter made them only scream louder and louder… She was greedy, commanding. We dislike how she thinks she can play me like her own pawn, yet she does not see the death lurking over her shoulder. It hurt, she thinks because I see a house of truths she cannot see, that I am no more than a mere pawn for her amusement. We dislike her. 

The dark daughter sent us to retrieve silvery, shiny, glittery trinkets from the house by the ocean. It glittered and shimmered like a wonderful harmony of the voices made by the white mistress, oh such a wonderful harmony we should play together in these nights before the end comes to play with our useless homes of a body, we gave our wonderful silvery trinket to her instead. She wanted it, we can't possibly refuse anything she asks of me, it's like trying to resist the call of the ocean by the moon.

White mistress of the night… We slashed paintings for you, and fought your sister for your life. She was a fool, white daughter, you could see it as well. Fools hold no place here with me, fools rhyme with tools, but we need no tool, just a toolshed. And such wonder it was for a bullet when a fool was in our way again, even if it caused a bit of a ruckus on the streets.

_ We will return to your Asylum, Jeanette. _

 

We found the home for the Astral Light, only in the house of wares. It was there it seemed to fit so beautifully when we followed the wise words of the 'nasty dude' the golden ghoul had told me about many nights ago. Bertram Tung, was it? Perhaps so, but even said, he was no fool. 

It was glorious, we watched it and watched it light and watched it stayed aflame for hours… but dawn came too quickly, and the flame was gone the next evening when I went back to see if the beautiful blaze was still burning with the corpses of the slain, the victory I took for myself. 

We will never forget the beautiful night sky lit by the flames of the warehouse. 

 

The lady by the sea still holds many mysteries for us to explore.


	2. Slippery Diseases Causing Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new place?   
> Yes, a new place. New people.   
> More fun for a broken mirror.

Baseball bats are now our least favorite thing. 

 

Apparently the Sabbat didn’t think the house of wares’ explosion was as beautiful as we did. We thought it was mesmerizing. They wanted to stake me for the sun, but that would be too pretty, it would be a final light show for our eyes. 

We didn’t like them. They spat in my face, and kicked me. He of numbered name came to save us, but we didn’t want his help. We could have taken them! 

           He with a name of numbers seems to always come to us, and even the voices don’t know how he knows where we are. 

_ Does numbered name care for us?  _

 

The jester had us in the top of his tower, we watched him command them like a fool, we found it amusing; _a jester posing as a prince_ … hehe... 

He spun us around into the direction of the home base of numbered name. We knew he was waiting, and Smiling Jack told us to meet him there as well, it would be a wicked party… We couldn’t wait to see them again. We went as quick as my legs could run, which scared a few of the local kine... Yes, they stared, but it felt better to give into childish glee after so long of being treated like a dog of the lady of the sea.

Maybe we shouldn’t run that fast again… it scared the kine. Or was it my amusing pants, with everything but the butt coverings? 

Why did I pay good money for all of this, just to have a breeze somewhere strange?

 

Damsel in distress didn’t want us to see numbered name… She spun me around and pointed us in the direction of a sick carrier pigeon and a sickened ghoul. We didn’t like feeding in Downtown, now. The blood tasted bad, it made me vomit. We hated how it stung my mouth, gross. 

The sickened ghoul had died, and his lovely friend had it as well. She was on floor six, so we went there, and got her to speak, but why did she die after it? We took her money anyway. Spinning around to the kingdom of a Locke, and then to Tin Bill, the dead Bill. Tin Bill wasn’t fun to play with like numbered name or the white mistress. Why are these people such close friends with the evil master of death and I was not? It is such a fright, watching death by my hands, or not my hands, but I was so close yet too far away from the release of a true death. These jesters and his fabled crown hiding with a mask did not amuse me, I am not happy with this hidden unlife!

We were glad to go into the sewers to rid it of another carrier pigeon. It felt better to give into a burning hatred to rid the sewers of a corrupted fiend, such a release of this unhappy energy was a happy breath of release. 

 

The twisted pidgeon of sickness carried with him a flyer of strange symbols we couldn’t read too well, so we had Damsel read it to us. She was smart, even told us where to go next. We like her, even though she is a bit mean. Even a damsel in distress makes for a nice guide in these nights, even if she only spat harsh words out. This Damsel was better than the silly jester, she asked of things, she did not command. She knew just what to say to gain her followers, unlike the silly prince and his gorilla. Damsel and her numbered leader would make good allies. 

Yes, even if Downtown made my head spin with childish wonder, and burning hatred, it was such an adventure. 

 

A club, it spun our thoughts into a giddy, childlike excitement to see all the people in there, there were so many people, and it was called Club Confession. 

Club Confession wasn’t as exciting as Jeanette's Asylum. It was fun, but nothing like the white mistress' little asylum. What was missing from this happy little place to make it so near to the blood-spun tales of my Asylum? Yes, I must learn. 

The goddess Venus, she did seem like a goddess in a way, just like the voices said she was. She wanted us to rid her of a money problem, a simple task, just deliver the news. 

_ Of course we wouldn’t be that plain.  _

 

_ It was a job for a later time, we apologize, goddess Venus. Numbered name still awaits us… _

Numbered name didn’t seem too thrilled with me for just wanting to talk to him quickly. I wonder why he got upset with us for that? The voices won’t tell us why, I wish they would speak more about my future. Numbered name told us how to shoot a gun better, we thank him for that. 

Smiling Jack did amuse us, even though he could barely understand us… hehe. Silly Jack, they even speak of your mistakes. 

 

We did not like the Jester prince, or his walking wall. The immovable wall always stared at us when we walked into the jester prince’s office… silly wall, we already know when the Jester will fall to us. 

_ Spinning, spinning, spinning… Can’t we just rest? I want to go home!  _

 

We went to find the box for the jester. It was on a boat, we hated boats. But Mercury was not spilling all over the beautiful beach, we did appreciate his new weaponry for us, hehe, a new boom-stick for our arsenal. Silly Mercury, you should still be broken.

Boats. It’s always boats. Stupid, silly boats. We didn’t bother with security cameras, silly jester, the voices told me to go see it! 

Beautiful, bloody, crawling handprints… they crept oh so slowly from the inside, it was almost beautiful to see the blood splashed about in a beautiful array of splatters over the deck of the boat, all sorts of seamen that could have been mine to eat.

We of course didn't go back to the jester, he bores my personalities. We much rather play with his emotions, but that gets boring after the first few times. Stupid LaCroix, you're going to fall from that silly tower. 

We snuck into a condemned hospital, there was apparently something in there worth the locals time, most likely just the dark aura we could see from it. 

Inside of the twisting hallways, a widow made her home. It was strange, a kindred that had to devour the kine like a spider had to eat the whole fly. She requested we find her items, one within a museum, and one was in a mansion. 

_ We will find your items, widow. _

 

The jester was impatient, apparently we took too long; his stilly voice annoyed me to no end.  _ Blah blah blah, find **this,** blah blah blah. _

Now we're being spun in the silly direction of a museum.

The museum was fun, all the guards couldn't see me, hehe. Museums, they usually held dinosaur bones. We wanted to see them, but of course our mission didn’t allow that if we wanted to stay on-time. 

We killed two or three blind guards on our way around, and we found a strange fetish item for the widow before we found the code for the basement door. We just wanted to see the box, we truly hope that the bloody art has followed it into the basement of this boring museum. 

Why was the box not there? Why was wolfie there in its place? Wolves are not boxes, I am sure.

The jester spat words of fire when we didn’t have it.The words burned and irritated my mind, it only made the voices angry and yell until it hurt to hear it. We wanted to leave his stupid tower soon. Stupidly confused jesters, I only hear a whisper of suggestion of action now.

But of course, we didn’t get that luxury; he spun us in the direction of a mansion to do ghoul work- a house call to the malkavian clan primogen. 

We still do not get this, but we apparently share the same blood? Is this primogen our somewhat dad? Vampire babble enters, but leaves me be without an explanation. I'm sure I shall understand within time, maybe not my voices, but maybe another. 

But why was numbered one there? It looked like Numbered one, but different… A mask, yes. What sort of demon could conjure a mask as well as numbered name's face?

 

His house- it was such fun. It twisted and turned at every corner to entertain the many voices. We didn’t want to leave anytime soon, there was too much to admire. Primogen-dad had so many guests, but they didn’t like me, so I ate them. Cardboard tasting blood with icky hatred did not satisfy me as well as even a homeless soothsayer's drunken blood in sweet, sweet back alley meetings.

He really likes candlesticks. We found so many of them in our puzzle-journey! The puzzles were so easy, why couldn’t his guests understand them? We don’t understand his sticks for candles, or glass ladies, or his music. We hoped Grout was still alive, I had a bad feeling in my lifeless stomach about it. 

There was a stabby in Grout. We didn’t know why they didn’t like him, we really enjoyed his house, and his puzzles; We even took a book from his bookshelf about computers. 

We did know one thing for sure, our primogen-dad was ashes.

 

Who was Bach? He likes fire, he likes it so much that he set Grouts mansion on fire. We don’t like him too much. Was it his stabby in his chest? We didn’t know, but Bach didn’t either… Was numbered one the evil here? We truly hoped numbered name didn’t do this… We had grown fond of him, and Damsel in distress’ praise… 

 

The jester was furious. We wanted to make his mouth stop spitting the words of fire, but it wasn’t time. He truly thought numbered name put the stabby there, we didn’t think it was numbered name… Numbered name wouldn’t have done that! I hope numbered one is safe during all of this… we don’t want him to get on the wrong end of a stabby. 

 

We didn’t bother doing this after the event with the jester. We had to go to the round of last and see if the numbered name was okay. But he wasn’t there. They were mad at us, but at least smiling Jack understood our mess. We poured out our dead heart to him and Damsel, they were the only ones who would listen. 

 

But now we have to go to the celluloid city, we didn’t want to go anymore, I ached all over.. 

We just want a break from this mess. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh  
> written in March, I think  
> It's been in my Google Docs for a month or so.   
> Chap three is being revised, prob going up tomorrow.


	3. Dancing On Lakes Of Ginger Swans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lake?   
> No, it's not a lake.   
> But it does indeed have a ginger swan!   
> She wasn't very company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ew this isn't even long

_ Jewelry stores soon proved themselves fun. _

 

Our arrival at the Celluloid city was a lot less exciting than that of downtown. An angry messenger from the baron flew to our side as soon as we left the yellow beetle. Spun around again, we found a jewelry store to pay our bloody tribute to our baron. 

We only wanted to find the sewer rats below this city. We already grew bored of hidden tapes and lakes of ginger swans ---- even though we haven't hunted either.

 

_ Why do these elders like spinning us around? It only hurts our head.  _

 

Spinning around until we faced the direction of an internet cafe, it was just dizzying to try and find these things when we need to rest. It doesn't even seem like a single hour has passed since our cruel awakening into our unlife. 

Even when we were told not to, we couldn't refrain from reading everyone's' emails, it was a simple joy we found to be enjoyable in this bloody and miserable unlife. A twisted minds' computer held the label of  _ 2Pacula _ . We enjoyed his password, and his long email log.

_ But, no matter how we tried to break away, we had to go and continue on this boring chain-mail.  _

 

Our twisted tape lied with the ginger swans, but we didn't know where their lake resided in this celluloid city. 

We don't want to go to our angry sender just yet.... Now it's our time to have our break for once!

Sinful bins and spots of red didn't hold anything for us but cheap chests and clothing. We wanted a club, and not just cheap, useless, minor thrills! Nothing rises excitement in this dead body anymore, but other dead ones got close to finding that useless human-like excitement in us. 

We only followed the path to a local club, one that held everything more than Issacs' poor, broken phoenix's club. 

 

_...And Vesuvius was its name. _

 

Its cover may have held cheap thrills for the kine, but yet, a lady who hides as a fabric as beautiful as her pulled the curtains away from those mortal pleasures and into her own world of beauty and very little fabric. 

All at once, they voices harmonized to her beat, yet it was a useless beat... we did enjoy how she reflected the beauteous fabric she portrayed herself as. Even though she held many, yet very few, tasks for us to complete to keep her beauty in the night. We greatly accept these tasks from her, we wouldn't want her beauty to fade from this evening.

And yet, we found ourself at the bin of sin, such a sinful bin it was. A silly hunter wanted her head, but we would return victorious against the hunter, and not such a pile of ash on the floor. 

Soon, the hunter was hunted. Velvet, doll, enjoyed our victory... She sang praises for us, and it felt so glorious to receive such praise for once. 

 

_ Her name is Susan, but why does she scowl and spit venom when we mentioned it? _   
_ What does lady fabric hold in her grey-matter? _

 

We left her to those thoughts of hers, and went our way to the baron again, maybe he could tell us where the lakes of ginger swans are hidden... and he could. She's apparently hiding in her own unlife, but in a way different from lady of fabric and mine. 

She's dead. We don't like lifeless things, it wasn't any fun and smelled very bad, it always stung my nose, making the contents of my own lifeless stomach try to expel itself. And yet, we pointed ourself to the way of the graveyard to find the twisted tape while the doll mourned over her life- yet she was just a poseur and not an artiste... but she would be an artiste in our eyes, it's an art to stay that beautiful after being dead for so long. 

 

The swan was no longer one, and smelled icky. We didn't enjoy it one bit, so we took the tape and left as quick as possible. Icky and gross. My break was over, even if it wasn't nearly long enough.   
The angry quest-giver flew with impatience at my time, but pleased my devilish curiosity to the tape I had just retrieved.   
  


It held many devilish fiends within, all screaming and yearning for the fight. Of course, a scared girl had fallen victim to their devilish needs. Devilish creatures, in a house decorated by a demon and his prized kills, stinking and attracting the flies of death. Yes, it was a curiosity, what would one need with such a gross display? Was this demon like the widow? No, certainly not with how it was being used as obvious decoration. A haven for a demon, indeed.

A new quest, of course... Get the full tape. Why do we need the full tape? The half in my hands was fiendish already, why is the other half needed to show the tale? Sadly, I must retrieve it anyway, even though I despised hunting for it already. 

This whole adventure here in this celluloid city was boring, I already heard her whispers and secrets in backstreet midnight rendezvous with a sweet, secret affair. Secret affairs were too common here, trashy and only for a bittersweet, fleeing moment. Sad to see ones life waste away with a life of backdoor meetings.

The Sinful Bin knew more secrets it seemed, one of the ladies waiting all pretty for me in a sweet little backdoor room. She wasn't my doll for now, she held no more secrets to me to hear. No, no, the sinful owner held something for me. I knew, his words wobbled, shaped so strangely as he spoke to me. No, no it only took just a gentle slip of a faced bill for his secrets to spill into the night's air.

_The moon is a mysterious mistress, indeed._

The twisted tape was mine, now. No secrets are hidden from me on this top-side city. Yet, the underground was still such a mystery to solve. 

The tape told me just where the fiend was, and now I must rid the night from this fiend and his ruined creatures. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ew I wrote this long ago and didn't really edit it so   
> done some minor editing + some more words and stuff to geekenders "Galaxy News Radio Live" album. Really good stuff, Graeme fucked me up with his singing tho

**Author's Note:**

> Will eventually be worked on, and revised to be longer.   
> Suggestions are appreciated.


End file.
